


The People I Don't Like

by leafiest_groves



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Mortal, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Drinking, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Drama, Family Issues, Family Reunions, Female Jason Grace, For a Friend, Gen, Help, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mortal AU, Multi, Other, People I don't like is a vibe song, Smoking, Songfic, The Author Regrets Nothing, Why?, cursing, from both mc and narrator, i've done it again, idefc if you'll call me a normie for saying that, idk why that's the case either, like I lot of cursing, pulled a fic out of nowhere, this fic is loonnggg, valgrace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28528746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leafiest_groves/pseuds/leafiest_groves
Summary: Jaylene's at a family night, the kind of nice family dinner that makes her sick.She only really wants to leave, but things aren't that easy are they?She hates everyone here, she's sure of it.Well, maybe she doesn't hate them.She just wishes they'd keel over and die so she could go home to her fiancé in peace.
Relationships: Jason Grace/Leo Valdez
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	The People I Don't Like

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parker_kingofbees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parker_kingofbees/gifts).



_Hello, it's so good to see you_

_We met before but nice to meet you_

_Yeah, I don't really wanna be here like, ah-ah-ah-ah_

  
  


Jaylene doesn’t drink. She almost wishes she does. This ‘family dinner’ is dragging on, and either the smell of alcohol or the stench of cigarette smoke is going to force her to puke. Their table is set real pretty, fairy lights and floral centerpieces and all the other shit her mom insisted that they needed. A glance reassures her that everyone here regrets making time for this event as much as she does, probably more knowing some of the human trash she’s related to.

Her mother is looking nervously between her two daughters, probably preparing to tap dear old dad on the shoulder and tell him to put out his cigarette before Thalia starts something. Her father doesn’t look like he wants to be here at all, and the idea that she agrees with her dad about something is so disgusting that Jaylene feels the bile rising in her fucking throat, but forces it down.

Her uncles don’t look particularly pleased to show up either (but their opinions are useless, and so Jaylene moves on to other targets). Auntie Sally and Zia Maria seem engrossed in conversation, and since they’re the only two relatives Jaylene has ever liked, she doesn’t have it in her to interrupt. Her eyes travel across the table and her eyebrows only go higher as a result.

_What's my name, do you remember?_

_I'm pretty sure you have my number_

_So let's pretend we like each other like, ah-ah-ah-ah_

Cousin Percy looks halfway to yanking his tie off and storming back to his car any second now, cousin Nico’s resting bitch face is making the most miniscule changes that indicate that he’s bored. Cousin Bianca is finishing her champagne at a frankly alarming rate and cousin Hazel has checked the state of her nailpolish about twenty-eight times in the past five minutes, (Jaylene has been keeping track, she clearly has nothing better to do) and Jaylene is tempted to do the same, if only to have something to look at besides the faces of her family. Cousin Estelle is the only one who looks remotely concerned with her meal, and has occupied herself in eating.

Jaylene nearly sighs out loud, but then everyone would start with their fake courtesies. She keeps quiet and pulls a trademark Hollywood smile on her pretty mouth, but she’s frowning when she sees lipstick stains on her fork. She can almost hear her father’s voice saying, “Were those etiquette lessons all for nothing, Lena?” It’s sickening as all hell. That sweet nickname hides an absolutely trashed father-daughter relationship, and the idea of shoving said fork directly into daddy dearest’s jugular is very appealing. Thalia is grinding her teeth and Jaylene flicks her sister’s wrist under the table in annoyance. Thalia glares at her for a fraction of a second then turns away.

Juno looks tense, and Jaylene doesn’t blame her. In the end, nobody has touched their food in nearly 15 minutes, and Juno relents, calling for the waitstaff to clear it so they can go to the lounge (and hopefully talk about literally anything).

_This room is so suffocating_

_Walking on ice, but nobody breaks it_

_Stuck in this one-way conversation_

_Guess I'll be here for awhile_

_This cocktail dress is the most itchy fucking thing I’ve worn,_ Jaylene thinks. _Why’d mom make me wear this again? Isn’t a family occasion meant to be ‘good and pure’ Lena’s time to shine? Not gonna be so pure when I cuss am I._

It’s only a momentary distraction when Uncle Hayden coughs awkwardly and asks if anyone wants to get up and leave. Nico looks thrilled at the suggestion, but is back to sulking like a goddamn kid once he realises nobody’s escaped this reunion yet. Jaylene almost wants to laugh, he’s the spitting image of his mother, and seeing Zia Maria’s familiar smiley and sunshiney features twisted into a frown is ironic enough to drive her to tears. Pulling together her favourite fake persona, she laughs politely with her cousins when Percy’s dad makes a god awful joke. 

Almost on autopilot - which is scary - she’s leaning over to give them cheek kisses, silently passing everyone makeup wipes under the table so they can wipe off the smears of wine-red kiss prints from their cheeks once their parents are done chuckling about how they look on them. Percy and Hazel seem resigned to it, and so does Nico, but Bianca damn near cringes when Jaylene pulls back.

A few minutes of uncomfortably familiar tee-heeing, they’re clearing out to the lounge while her uncles argue with her father about who’s paying for this shitty meal that even a blind man can see none of them appreciated or enjoyed. Zia Maria whispers conspiratorially to her mother, who’s just happy to be included and walks off with her and Auntie Sally.

She slumps onto the crushed velvet of the sofa, looking over her cousins with a critical eye, trained from years of judging people sharply to decide if ~~they were of any use to her~~ she liked them or not. Quickly sitting up straight again from where she’s slouched, she pulls out her phone to pretend she’s checking how she looks in her camera while quietly taking pictures of the room she’s in. 

Resident social butterfly Percy takes the initiative to start a conversation, that nobody bothers to add anything to besides ‘mhm’ or ‘uh-huh’. Even Estelle can’t seem to say anything. Jaylene isn’t sure if she wants to hug him and pet his head fondly for trying at all, or if she wants to throttle him for ruining the fragile civility of the room.

_And you're blowing smoke in my face_

_And telling me all about your paycheck_

_Take a shot with a fake smile to chase it_

_Guess I’ll take another round_

Her uncles parade in soon enough, and the atmosphere is just suffocating from then on. Half the generation up Jaylene are shamelessly turning themselves into chimneys in front of their few children. 

_If you weren’t such an ashtray maybe there’d be more of us,_ Jaylene thinks snidely. Some sort of masculinity-based posturing is happening halfway across the room now, and this gives her an excuse to glue herself to her phone properly. The smoke might actually be a pretty nice touch. A few selfies she won’t show anyone later, she feels enough pity to drag her cousins away from their fathers and back toward their sisters, and all of a sudden they’re basking in their own silence. 

That certainly doesn’t last long.

Her uncle puts an arm about Hazel’s shoulders, talking up how his youngest daughter’s meant to be qualifying for Ringling or some or another fashion course at some or another college. This prompts Estelle’s ballet recital to be the next topic of conversation, and Jaylene wants to kick herself for being surprised that her father dragged her before the peanut gallery next. _Of course it was you, who did you think it would be dumbass? Thalia? Dad would die first._

The thought is sour but true. Her father shoved her and Thalia into nearly every extracurricular he could think of, and Jaylene doesn’t even know if he did it for her sake or to try and show up his brothers.

_Your daughter Bianca’s in archery? Why, our Thalia is as well!_

_Stella’s in ballet? Oh, Lena is too!_

_Percy and Hazel are competing in this year’s show-jumping regionals? My baby girl's in dressage!_

_Nico’s got a chess tutor? Thalia’s getting one soon, what a coincidence!_

Bianca calls for a bottle of Rosé, and Jaylene guarantees that half of it will be gone soon.

_Everybody in this party’s fuckin’ fake_

_I really wish that I could say it to your face_

_But I won't, so_

Jaylene feels those spiteful thoughts bubbling with rage just under the surface. It’ll be a miracle if she can keep her shit together until it’s home time.

_Hello, it's so good to see you_

_We met before, but nice to meet you_

_Yeah, I don't really wanna be here like, ah-ah-ah-ah_

She doesn’t give a flying fuck about her uncles, but with some ungodly mercy she forces her speech to be sugary and proper and everything she hears it should be. 

_What's my name, do you remember?_

_I'm pretty sure you have my number_

_So let's pretend we like each other like, ah-ah-ah-ah_

Does she even know her cousins all that well? She likes them enough, but she doesn’t really know them at all. Jaylene usually had to remind them who she was when they were younger, which is the opposite of Thalia, who was unforgettable because of being a ‘troubled child’, not in spite of it. She’s swapped numbers with all of them besides Estelle, who’s too young to have a phone yet apparently. 

_Not too young to play 3 instruments and have a new ballet recital every other fucking week though._

Ah, those are bad thoughts. Why are they bad thoughts? They are not productive.

_Blah, blah, blah, I'm so bored_

_Love your shoes, tell me more_

_On and on about yourself_

_Can't you bother somebody else?_

Now consigned to the ‘ladies’ corner’ with Bianca and Hazel and their mothers, Jaylene’s murderous rage is bubbling up once again. How. Predictable.

Tugging up the corners of her painted lips is a smile that’s barely natural-seeming enough to satisfy her mother. The scar that mars it has been covered with the thickest concealer Jaylene’s ever used, and the blood-red color makes her mouth - which is usually tightly pressed into a thin smile in her family’s presence - look pouty and full despite her sour expression, overdrawn and shimmering with clear gloss. 

Zia Maria makes a lame attempt to drag the distracted young ladies into a conversation. Thalia long since excused herself to go talk to Estelle. Jaylene wishes she’d thought of that. She supposes this is just one of the many, many reasons why Thalia has so much more peace of mind than her.

Auntie Sally reaches over to twirl her finger around Jaylene’s pretty curling-iron pressed locks, laughing about how lucky she was to be born blonde in a family of brunettes. “Thank you Auntie!” She gushes, and it’s sweet and familiar and filial, everything it’s meant to be but just isn’t. Hazel’s chatting her up next, about where she got her shoes and how they had to go shopping the next time they were in the same city. Jaylene giggles and smiles playfully, going straight to the red soles that glint from Hazel’s glittering heels. Eyebrows raised, she widens her eyes at Zia Maria, who simply grins before occupying herself with Jaylene’s mother, who’s been laughing with Bianca about something for the past fifteen minutes, nearly non-stop.

“Zia! It’s been so long…” The sentence starts with just as much excitement and zeal as it might have years ago when she’d have been happy to see her. That ship has long sailed, but the megawatt grin that practically illuminates the goddamn room belongs to none other than Jaylene herself. 

_Gods, I’d be equally happy if I never saw any one of you ever again._

_Why the hell am I even here?_

_I need- I just- **I have to-**_

Jaylene feels the itch, and scrubs her nails together in annoyance before silently making her way over Zia Maria and tapping her on the shoulder. She holds out her hand, and Zia just gets it. She presses a cigarillo into Jaylene’s palm, and a quick walk leaning over Nico and whispering to her father means she can borrow a lighter that she probably won’t be returning until she gets home from college after another sem has come and gone.

_Raise a glass if you're like me, yeah_

_Getting trashed, 'cause you can't leave_

_Guess we're in this together_

_Makes my head hurt_

Bianca makes eye contact with her nearly immediately after she stalks out to the balcony in a manner her mom is abso-fucking-lutely going to criticise later. “Bia.” She acknowledges, stopping in her tracks before continuing to make her way over to the edge Bianca’s leaning on. She stares at Jaylene then, like she’s analysing her, and she turns to shake her head at the horizon before shrugging to nobody in particular right after. She ever so slightly lifts her glass in the air, and she’s already tipsy, Jaylene can tell she’s planning on getting fully drunk while someone else pays for the alcohol.

“He-Here’s to you, Lena-'' Bianca mumbles, cutting off her own sentence by pouring half her glass down her throat. There’s mascara smudged under eyes, and the dark eyeshadow around her eyes is a half-faded blurry mess, and Jaylene laughs aloud. “Don’t call me that Bia.” She giggles, and it’s genuine. There’s a ribbon of smoke haloing her head just then, and Bianca thinks she looks like some fucked-up version of a painting of the lady Madonna. 

“What do-What do I call you then?” she slurs, watching with half lidded eyes over the rim of her glass, clacking her nails (they’re claws, Jaylene swears) on the smooth crystal. “My friends call me Jay.” 

_Everybody in this party’s fuckin’ fake_

_And so am I, but I just got here so I gotta show some face_

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself at all?” Juno’s pinching the bridge of her nose and glaring at Thalia, gesturing to where Bianca and Jaylene and laughing together. “Lena’s having a good time and you’re ruining this for yourself.” Thalia simply scoffs and guides Estelle away towards her brother, taking her by the shoulder. She’s well aware of the kind of hot fucking mess her sister is and keeps quiet. It’s infinitely more entertaining to have her parents gush about their ‘perfect daughter’ than it is to listen to twice the cursing and anger in the household.

_Perfect? Perfect my ass, it’s a miracle that ‘perfect daughter’ of yours wasn’t a teen mom, she’s been fucking Valdez since Junior year of highschool. Bet you anything she’s gonna text him high as a kite later, and they’re gonna go back to his place and have the kind of coked-up sex that both you and dad would be clutching your pretty pearls over._ Thalia may be ace, but just because she has no interest in sex doesn’t mean her sister doesn’t tell her everything. It was just what sisters did for each other.

So it’s not a surprise that Thalia knows about the dozen or so hickies on Jaylene’s thighs, not just because she saw them by accident while Jaylene was getting ready, but because of how her baby sister had confessed so reverently who gave them to her and when. Thalia knows about the ‘friends with benefits’ bullshit Jaylene and Leo had tried (uselessly) for a year or so before admitting that they’d both caught feelings. Thalia is well aware that this perfect boy Jaylene brought home was just as flawed as her or the next person. He may have been on full scholarship at MIT, he may have been smart and sweet and everything Jaylene deserved, but he was still a fucking headache that sent her sister home boneless and barely able to walk more times than Thalia bothers to count. 

Not that it’s one-sided bullshit behaviour, Thalia’s seen the number of raised eyebrows that involved Leo making the walk of shame home after Jaylene sank her claws into him. She’s not mad at either of them. Why would she? Jaylene’s rebellion was reassuring then, it still is even now. 

_Perfect,_ Thalia thinks, _is the wrong word to use with either of them._

Jaylene’s reaching for her phone and smiling in that oddly sharp way again. Thalia knows. Of course she does. It’s just what sisters do for each other, after all.

_Hello, it's so good to see you_

_We met before, but nice to meet you_

_Yeah, I don't really wanna be here like, ah-ah-ah-ah_

“Jesus fucking christ, if you’re going to sext your boyfriend, don’t do it here.” Percy remarks, and Jaylene huffs out a laugh. It’s comforting that Percy’s till gonna call her out on her bullshit, just like he did back in highschool. 

“Oh, so if I went through all your texts in the past hour, they’d be fully innocent?” 

She says it innocently, almost like she’s concerned. It’s a comfort too. Percy’s smile is soft and fond, but his eyes are equal parts irritation and pride. “Glad to see you’re still fine, huh Jay?” 

“It’s better to see you than it is to see everyone else here.” Jaylene says, and this time, when their hug ends with the same cheek kisses that she’s been giving out since age fourteen, Percy doesn’t bother to even ask before yanking a makeup wipe from her purse to rub the blood like stain of lips from his face.

“Attagirl, you’re getting it.” 

_What's my name, do you remember?_

_I'm pretty sure you have my number_

_So let's pretend we like each other like, ah-ah-ah-ah_

It’s probably good advice, but it’s not as if Jaylene’s pulled together her relationship with Leo out of holding hands and reading the bible. The dusk light casts an almost violet coloured shadow over her, and her glinting electric blues look catlike. The perfect half-moon manicure on her fingertips taps impatiently on her phone case in a smooth rhythm. It’s acrylic, Jaylene’s been biting her nails since she was twelve and still hasn’t stopped.

She leans back comfortably on the railing, cutting quite the striking figure. All five feet and ten inches of her are in an off-shoulder cocktail dress, a deep navy that makes her bright eyes seem darker somehow. A chain of pearls circles her throat, a sweet sixteen present from dear old Auntie. Her watch is all in roman numerals, the numbers are in a dark gold against a mother-of-pearl backing. It’s ticking incessantly. 

She happens to see her reflection in the shining gong the waitstaff have been ringing for this particular family since ten years ago, and grins to herself, smug and self-satisfied. There’s nothing of her in that reflection that could give away the soreness up her hips and thighs, the lovebites all over her inner thighs that she mid-calf dress hides. It’s a hunter’s lascivious smile that looks back at her, probably one her lover’s familiar with now. 

Why ever not? 

It’s the same easy and lazy smile that sprawls over her mouth when Leo attacks her sensitive throat with bitey little kisses, the same smile he’s probably seen when she moves back to breathe after a searing kiss, the same smile that melts away into an open moan when his hands get under and up her skirts over the years, the same smile she indulgently smiles at him with when she’s trying to rile him up until he's dragging her into the nearest room that locks, the same smile of a true hedonist that she stares at him with in the afterglow, whether he’s pulling her close or pulling on his clothes.

Shaking her head at herself, she lets her eyes go back to her phone. There’s a promise scrawled into the notes, that she’s going to make Leo help her forget this shitty family reunion night with the kind of fucking - no, lovemaking, that leaves her entirely nonverbal in the aftermath. She’s suffered enough today to want no roughness at all, but longs for the sweetness that only she knows Leo’s capable of. She’s going to rake that perfect manicure down his back, bucking into him with the kind of pent up tension that can only come from being around this crowd, she’s going to reverently gasp “Leo-” right into his ear with kiss-bitten lips, lips that will leave her forty dollar lipstick smudged down his neck until he looks like a caricature of a politician denying an affair with women he shouldn’t have been sleeping with. 

Is that what this is? 

Does it matter?

Jaylene aches. She aches and longs and yearns and knows she can’t pepper the love of her life with smoky-minty kisses until hours after this torture ends. 

She misses him, wants desperately to be back home and safe in a warm hug in a comfortable bed in the house they’ve shared for 2 years. 

She’s fucking lonely. She knows it too.

_To the people I don't like_

_You're trying too hard_

_(Keep trying, keep trying, keep trying)_

She’s floating quietly on her own melancholy, wondering just how unobservant her family are, until finally everyone’s in the balcony and have their eyes back on Jaylene when her mother gasps and points at her hand, where a pretty engagement band shimmers in the fading daylight, the gem set into it is a brilliant blue that doesn’t seem obvious or ostentatious, which is especially accurate considering nobody noticed it yet. 

She’s being yanked around by the hand, everyone’s marvelling at her pretty pianist’s fingers opening and clenching while she shows off her ring. A gem the colour of her eyes was the obvious choice, but she wishes it were the same golden brown that looks like the melted chocolate of Leo’s eyes.

They’re all so very sweet about it, kind and almost loving, and Jaylene wants to pretend. She knows she can’t.

Half of them don’t understand, and the older half don’t mean a thing they said. Jaylene truthfully doesn’t care. 

She doesn’t even want to have them at the wedding. She’d probably just be happy with a courthouse ceremony and going home with a marriage license. However, she’s talked it over with Esperanza, and there’s the part of her that wants to be the princess she was told she was all her life (She wasn’t the princess she thought she was. Who ever is?) and always wanted to see herself as. Just for a day, huh? If people let it become common knowledge that she was enamored with her mother-in-law where she resented her mother, there’d likely be a good deal of relatives wondering if she needed to get her head checked.

Jaylene smiles and perfectly plays the part of a blushing-bride-to-be, because she’s not pretending. Just this once, her happiness is so painfully sweet and genuine, and maybe that’s what throws her cousins off guard and confuses her parents and their delicate sensibilities. 

There’s congratulations ringing through the entire event hall, most people recognize Jove’s prodigal daughter. 

Jaylene soaks it in, her head is floating on the soft feeling of being so happy. Her day’s anger is forgotten, and the reflection she saw is still knocking on her thoughts. She’s willing to forgive anything right now.

The rush of warmth in her rapidly beating heart when she’s said her goodbyes is no surprise. Leo’s pulled into the driveway to come pick her up. She’s letting the burning all over her cheeks and down her neck speak for itself, and squeaks when Leo’s smirk is accompanied by a tease about how it goes down her chest, probably throwing the kiss bitten bruises there into sharp contrast.

She’s free now, free to rant and confide her headaches about family night to someone, and the reassurance that she won’t be going to the next one alone. Jaylene breathes and she’s happy, happy enough to cry right then and there while the night air whips into the car and lets her take in the freshness.

They’re all over each other from the minute they manage to jostle the keys into the door and get themselves inside the house. Her family’s icy, cold at best, but he’s warm, so, so warm, and his voice is a vice to her, something she feeds off of and she’s already moaning when he’s halfway through asking her “C’mon Jay, d’you really want it that bad?” and it’s dizzying and she’s aching again.

They’re a tangle of limbs, unable to tell where one ends and the other begins, they’re wrapped up in each other and the night burns on and on for hours, soft sighs and groans ringing out interchangeably in the hal-dark of their room, and it’s the kind of lovemaking that leaves Jaylene entirely nonverbal in the aftermath. Leo’s every bit as sweet and gentle as she’s ever wanted him to be, the heat of their own making curling around them in protection of a sweet secret. Her manicure’s leaving scratches on his back that match the handprints on her hips and the hickies sucked onto her chest, and she’s bucking into him, shaky and loving and reaching out despite her uncertainty. She’s sighing out his name between their mouths with every kiss, and gasps it into his ear when he manages to get right there-

Her lipstick’s been kissed right off her mouth, and there’s lipstick smudged down Leo’s neck wherever she’s been able to get her mouth on him. Jaylene’s quiet, basking in the softness while she’s pulled him close to nestle his head to lay on her hammering, heaving chest. 

It’s a chore to clean up after, but Leo’s correct that she’ll regret it come morning if she doesn’t get up now. She’s the best kind of sore, and the bathwater is warm and comfortable enough that she wants to drift off right then. Her makeup’s off both her face and Leo’s, and there’s a pile of used makeup wipes lying in the little trashbasket she got for cosmetics at some store years ago, that’s been sitting on their sink countertop since they first moved in together.

Yawning, she yanks one of his old shirts over her head, tugging on a pair of leggings, and allows herself to be scooped up in a princess carry to get back to bed. She leans over him to turn off the lamp on their nightstand, and smiles to herself when he buries his face in her hair and mumbles the sweetest little compliments into the mess of blonde waves, feeling the arms that go protectively around her waist and grinning to herself at the rings that match on their hands.

_To the people I don't like_

_To the people I don't, don't, d-don't, don't, don't_

She’s euphoric when she drifts off, and thinks of every family member that got on her nerves today.

Gods, fuck you, she thinks quietly. You can’t take this away from me.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> For Parker, who's put up with me going on a valgrace high as of late and heard me gush about them for wayyy too long. Here's to you babe!


End file.
